Children

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

-- Khalil Gibran

I especially love the last stanza... very aptly put.

The Secret of Death

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.


In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?


For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?


Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.


-- Khalil Gibran

Most of the times, Gibran reaches the heart. But here I know not what he is talking about... maybe I need to believe.


When hearts of men are not content within the world, and find no rest therein, they can seek beyond the world and its confines. They are not bound to the Earth.  Their spirits can truly leave the physical world, and do not return. This knowledge that they have a short time in this world motivates men to create their own destinies amidst the powers and chances of the world and shape their lives in defiance of the whims of fate.

Some good blog posts

A couple of interesting blog posts from neoindian:

1. Why it is meaningless to say you’re proud to be an Indian

2. Why you should read the Vedas, and why the religious will never understand them

3. A quick refresher of ancient Indian history, in case you forgot what you learnt in school

Simplicity

I love this song. For one its Kishore, and has beautiful lyrics. But what I love more is the simplicity of the room portrayed - a bed, bookcase, rocking chair, table and easel - what more does a person need...

Anna Karenina

I detest romantic novels, unless ofcourse they are heart rendering like Anna Karenina. Love is beautifully terrible and all consuming, and this is perhaps why most of the greatest love stories are tragedies.

Anna Karenina is Tolstoy's and Tolstoy has an amazing way of knowing what a person would feel in any situation and has an even more amazing ability to convey those exact emotions to his readers. This is a story of a married woman who falls in love with a younger army officer and the tragedy that their being together begets. And no, its not a book on morality. It is just a story of real-life-like people caught up in a terrible torrent.

Ekla Chalo

Bengali and Urdu are the two languages I really wish I knew... Bengali for Tagore, and Urdu for Faiz and Ghalib. Reading poetry in it's own language is a joy. But till we get there, here is a translation of a simple and profound Tagore composition:


If they answer not to thy call, walk alone;
If they are afraid and cower mutely facing the wall,
Open thy mind and speak out alone.

If they turn away and desert you when crossing the wilderness,
Trample the thorns under thy tread,
And along the blood-lined track travel alone.

If they do not hold up the light when the night is troubled with storm,
With the thunder-flame of pain ignite thine own heart,
And let it burn alone.

- Tagore

You may say I'm a dreamer...

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one